Three Days to Forever (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 9) Page 9

  With a whine, Gnarly hung his head.

  “I’m going to go check on Josh,” David said.

  Mac jumped to his feet, then encased in warm boots. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Wash your hands first!” Agnes called out.

  Seeing David’s glare shot in his direction, Mac muttered, “She’s … going to be … my m-mother-in-law … I’m marrying … her daughter. I’m really marrying her daughter.”

  “I think Archie was adopted,” David said.

  Mac was hopeful. “Do you think?”

  When David turned to open the bedroom door, Mac stopped him with his hand on his arm. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “About what?”

  “Archie,” Mac said. “Does she want children?”

  “Isn’t that a question you need to be asking her?” David replied with a hint of impatience. “Like maybe back before you asked her to marry you?”

  “I did, and she said she didn’t. Agnes insists Archie does want children and that she lied.”

  David chuckled. “Archie doesn’t lie.” He tilted his chin in the direction of the kitchen. “I’d believe Archie before I’d believe the Wicked Witch of the West.” He went into the bedroom.

  His hand on his weapon, Hector turned around when David and Mac came into the bedroom. “It’s only Mac and me,” David announced to the jumpy security chief.

  David observed that Joshua had been stripped down to the waist so that Doc could examine him. He was heavily bandaged around the mid-section. His complexion was as gray as his silver hair.

  While Doc finished her examination, David strolled up to the bed, where Joshua held what appeared to be his jacket tucked under his arm, close to his body on the opposite side of where he had been shot in the side. “How are you feeling?” David asked him.

  “I’ll be okay.” Joshua grinned through a grimace. “Has anyone checked on Donny?”

  “Donny is fine,” Hector said. “Members of my security team have eyes on him as we speak.”

  “Are you sure none of the perps got away?” Mac asked.

  David said. “We found their van parked at a summer residence across the cove from the manor. It had stolen plates. If someone had escaped, we would assume they would have returned to the van to make their getaway.”

  “Do you have Russell Dooley in custody?” Mac asked.

  “He’s dead,” David said.

  Stunned, Mac was still staring at David when Joshua asked, “Who’s Russell Dooley?”

  “Husband of a murderer I arrested,” Mac said. “She killed herself. In retaliation for her suicide, he threatened to ruin the wedding.” He turned back to David, “How’d he die?”

  “Murdered at his motel,” David said. “Turow wants to talk to you.”

  “Does this Dooley guy have the resources to hire a hit squad?” Joshua asked.

  “No,” Mac said. “But if he was murdered—was it a professional hit on Dooley?” he asked David. “Maybe this whole thing is a setup.”

  “It didn’t look like it,” David said. “But then, it’s not my case. The murder was in Accident, Sheriff Turow’s jurisdiction. Who would kill Russell Dooley and send a hit squad after you?”

  “Maybe the victim of this murder that you put this Dooley guy’s wife in jail for was connected,” Joshua said. “Maybe she was framed.”

  “She did it!” Realizing the harshness of his tone, Mac apologized.

  Softly, Joshua replied, “I’m only suggesting that if her victim was connected in some way to drugs or organized crime …”

  “But why come after me years later?” Mac asked.

  “Maybe Dooley uncovered something,” Joshua replied. “They killed him to keep him quiet and came after you to tie up any possible lose ends.”

  Slowly, Mac shook his head and then nodded. “That’s a thought.” Then, he shook his head again. “But I found no evidence in that case of Tyler being connected to drugs or organized crime.”

  “It’s worth looking into,” David said.

  Mac turned his attention back to the police chief. “Tell me what happened to Dooley.”

  “You need to talk to Sheriff Turow.”

  “What’s the time of death?” when David didn’t answer, Mac turned to Doc.

  “Shortly after midnight last night,” she replied. “That’s all I’m telling you.”

  “Damn!” Mac pounded his fist on the foot of the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” Joshua asked.

  “I don’t have any alibi,” Mac said. “I was home in bed alone … unless you want to count Gnarly.”

  David agreed. “I was at the Inn with Chelsea, so I can’t say if you were home or not.”

  Doc proceeded to pack up her medical bag. “The bleeding has stopped for now. Agnes did a good job. But even though the quikclok did stop the bleeding, he does need to go to the hospital for treatment. The wound could get infected. He could have a perforated intestine, which could lead to peritonitis, which could kill him.”

  “We just need some time to figure out who is behind this,” David said.

  “They had military combat training,” Joshua said. “If their target goes to the hospital, they would not hesitate to kill innocent people to get what they want.”

  “Okay,” Doc said. “I’ve done all I can do for now. I suggest moving him as little as possible until you can get him to a hospital. Keep him warm, and keep the wound clean.”

  “Warm and clean,” Mac said with a nod of his head. “Will do.”

  Doc glanced at each one of the men. Sensing by their silence and by their gaze on Joshua that they did not want to talk in front of her, she said, “I’m going to go check on Gnarly.” She picked up her bag. “Hector, can you take me back to my van?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Out in the hallway, she announced, “I’ll be waiting.” She closed the door behind her.

  Mac moved around to the other side of the bed. Folding his arms across his chest, David peered down at Joshua. Sensing an interrogation coming, Joshua pulled the covers up over his chest and tucked his coat under his arm.

  “I’m interested in your thoughts, Josh,” Mac began. “My first impression when the shooting started was the same as yours. To send a death squad after me was overkill for Russell Dooley. My sense from his note threatening me was that he would want to be on hand to see my pain. This attack was calculated. Like men on a mission with an objective to fulfill. Don’t you agree?”

  “A military mission,” Joshua said.

  “This is my town,” David said. “I have a need to know if you’re involved in something that’s going to threaten the people who live, work, and visit here.”

  “I’m a county prosecutor. I took the same type of vow and have the same responsibility for the people in my county.” Joshua avoided their gaze. “But I can’t tell you anything,” he said with a sigh.

  “What do you mean you can’t tell us?” Mac bent over him. “I got shot at. We all got shot at. My home was invaded and looks like something out of a warzone now. Archie’s mother was in the line of fire and … you can’t tell us anything!”

  “Mac …” David said in a soft voice.

  “David is the chief of police,” Mac told Joshua. “If you can’t tell him, then who can you tell? Is this someone you put away? Someone from organized crime? Maybe a terrorist you had arrested when you were in the navy?”

  “I can’t say, Mac,” Joshua said. “All I can say is that I’m sorry this happened.”

  “Sorry isn’t enough!” Mac clenched his fists. “I have a right to know who is trying to kill me!”

  “Mac has a need to know,” David said. “He needs to know what he’s fighting. I need to know what I’m protecting you from.”

  Mac leaned over the bed to tell him, “If I’m going to get killed right b
efore my wedding, Archie has a right to know why it happened.”

  “Stand down, Mac!” David roared in a voice so loud and harsh that the walls seemed to echo.

  Instinctively, Joshua sat up straight in spite of his pain. Hector stood up straight to gaze straight at David, whose eyes were on Mac. The police chief’s expression was firm. He dared Mac to challenge him.

  The bedroom was filled with silence.

  “Hector …” David’s eyes did not leave Mac’s face.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Take Doc back to her van. Return Agnes to the Inn. Make sure Donny Thornton is taken care of.”

  “He’s a minor,” Hector reminded David. “We can’t let him stay at the Inn by himself.”

  “I will come to the Inn and stay with him tonight,” David said. “Just make sure he is taken care of. I’ll talk to him when I get back to let him know what’s going on.”

  “He’s going to be looking for his father. What should I tell him about the situation?”

  David looked down at Joshua. “Tell him his father got hung up working on a case, but he’s fine.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hector practically saluted David before rushing from the room.

  After Hector was gone, David gestured with a toss of his head for Mac to leave.

  “I’m not leaving.” Mac folded his arms across his chest. “I know all about national security-type operations. This is a case where I have a need to know.” He tapped his chest. “I was getting shot at.”

  “And I have top-secret security clearance,” David said.

  Joshua looked up at David.

  “So we have a man who has become a target, and you have a police chief with top secret clearance,” David said. “Start talking.”

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth about your clearance?” Joshua asked.

  “I’m a major in the United States Marine Reserves,” David said. “Special Operations. I’ve served tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. Once a year, I get sent out on another mission—usually overseas on highly classified assignments. So I know exactly what you’re not talking about.” He relaxed his stance. “You?”

  “Captain in the naval reserves.”

  “And you’re on an assignment right now?” Mac asked.

  “Special assignment,” Joshua said. “But I didn’t agree to be a groomsman in your wedding for this. The timing and the place worked out for the exchange.”

  “What was your mission?” David asked.

  “Pick-up and delivery of classified information,” Joshua said.

  “From who and to whom?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Joshua said.

  “You can tell me who we’re dealing with, Captain.” It was an order. “Mac is right. We have a right to know who’s trying to kill us.”

  “How can we fight an enemy we don’t know?” Mac asked.

  “It’s the same people who’ve been trying to kill us,” Joshua said. “Islamic terrorist groups. Despite what Washington wants us to believe, they’re here in America, and they don’t all have dark skin and wear rags on their heads.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what it is.” Seeing Joshua clutching his coat, David reached for it. “Just give it to me and I’ll—”

  Joshua pulled the coat tighter. “Don’t, David. You have no idea how sensitive this information is. A lot of people would kill to keep it from reaching its final destination.”

  “Who are you supposed to deliver it to? What am I supposed to do if you die? Who am I supposed to call?”

  Anticipating the question, Joshua was searching through the pockets of his coat until he found his wallet. He extracted a business card from it and handed it to David. “I answer to my commanding officer. Call this number and tell her exactly who you are and your social security number. She answers directly to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Tell her to send Murphy. If I can’t deliver it to her myself, then Murphy will have to complete the assignment.”

  “Your son?” Mac asked.

  “Isn’t he just an ensign?” David inquired.

  “He’s a lieutenant now,” Joshua said. “He’s got the highest security clearances available—just like me. If I can’t complete my assignment, Murphy will be able to.”

  David read the phone number on the card. There was no name. No government or military insignia. Only a phone number. Wordlessly, he handed the business card across the bed to Mac.

  “There’s nothing but a phone number on this card,” Mac said. “What’s her name?”

  “Just call that number,” Joshua said. “She’ll contact Murphy.”

  “This stinks,” Mac whispered to David once they were outside in the hallway with the bedroom door closed. “A phone number without a name. Spies. Mysterious women with no names. Secret assignments. Hit squads. It’s like something out of a bad movie.”

  The pain killer that Doc had given Joshua was starting to work. In spite of the desperation of the situation, he had finally managed to drift off to sleep. The last thing he asked David before falling asleep was to call Cameron to tell her about the situation, but to keep it from her that he had been shot. “If I talk to her, she’ll be able to tell by my voice that something has happened.” He gave David a phone number to a burn phone that she had for just such emergencies.

  “You’re always prepared,” Mac noted with a small grin.

  “I was an Eagle Scout,” Joshua uttered before drifting off.

  “Where there’s smoke there’s fire,” David said in the hallway while tucking Cameron’s phone number into the inside pocket of his coat. “The summer before last when I was in Iraq with my unit, I heard a rumor about a very elite and highly secret team that supposedly the Joint Chiefs of Staff had put together. Each member of the team was hand-picked. It was made up of top members of every military branch, and they were sent on the most highly classified missions.”

  “Black ops?”

  “They were referred to as Phantoms.”

  “Military is just like the police.” Mac shook his head with a laugh. “There’re always rumors going around, and more than half of them aren’t true.”

  “I thought the same thing when I first heard the rumors,” David said in a low tone, “but something very weird happened in that desert—weird enough to make me wonder.”

  “What happened?”

  “You’ll never believe me.” The corner of his lip kicked up in a smile at the memory of the stunning woman with no name and fabulous legs.

  “Who are we dealing with?” Mac murmured. “Terrorists? That does fit. Military types. Professional hit squad.”

  Clenching his jaw, David suppressed a shudder.

  Mac saw the blood drain from his face and his complexion turn pale. “Are you okay?”

  “Just tired,” David murmured. “Josh may very well have been the target.”

  Mac shook his head. “But they hit at Spencer Manor. How did they know he was going to be there?”

  “You two did have an appointment at the tailor,” David pointed out. “You’d be surprised at the sophisticated technology these guys have. People see dirty smelly looking men dressed in rags and skull caps out in the desert living in mud huts with these radical barbaric beliefs and they think they don’t know anything. Truth is, some of these groups have big financial backing to get them top-notch support, both in technology and espionage. And they have a lot of political backing as well.” He shook his head. “If Josh’s cover got blown, then there’s no telling how they got that, and if he has something they want, they won’t stop at Spencer Manor.”

  “You need to get Archie’s mother out of here,” Mac said.

  David was already jogging down the hallway to the great room. “She’s on her way back to the Spencer Inn now. I’m going to try to get some of my men up here to back you up.”

  In the great room, they f
ound Doc writing out instructions on a notepad. “There’s usually a thirty to fifty percent rate of success after surgery.”

  “That high?” Agnes replied. “I am always amazed at what medical science can do nowadays. It’s like magic.”

  “Doc, Agnes, what are you two still doing here?” David turned to Hector, who was standing at the door with his coat on. “I told you to get them back to the Inn.”

  “Have you ever tried to get two women moving when they don’t want to?” Hector replied. “I’ve been ready to go, but they’ve been yapping.”

  “About what?” Mac asked.

  “Having your vasectomy reversed,” Doc answered.

  His jaw dropping, Mac backed up several steps while involuntarily covering his crotch with his hand. “What!” He whirled around to his future mother-in-law.

  “Good news, Mac.” Agnes’ smile spread across her wrinkled face. “Doc here says that they can reverse your vasectomy, and you won’t even have to spend the night in the hospital.”

  “It’s outpatient surgery done with a local anesthetic,” the medical examiner explained in a matter-of-fact manner. She could very well have been talking about his tonsils. “How long ago did you have the vasectomy done?”

  Stunned, Mac could only gaze at Doc, a woman he had known for years. But he didn’t know her well enough to discuss his sexual reproductive organs with her.

  When Mac didn’t answer, Agnes did. “It was when his daughter hit puberty.”

  “Jessica’s in her early twenties now, isn’t she?” Doc asked Mac, who narrowed his eyes before turning to Agnes. “There’s less chance for success after ten years. You’re cutting it kind of close.”